


Warm

by keikogobrrrrr



Series: QNB Fanfics [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Minor Character Death, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Relationship(s), Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Small Appearance TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Alexis | Quackity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:47:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29717394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keikogobrrrrr/pseuds/keikogobrrrrr
Summary: He wasn't used to this type of warmth, but he liked it.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: QNB Fanfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186691
Comments: 14
Kudos: 289





	Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that these are about the characters, not the CCs! Don't send hate on anyone! The CCs are good people!
> 
> Warnings are also already in the tags, so please don't blame me for not 'warning' you. (Sorry if I sound extremely rude!)  
> I hope you guys enjoy it!

“Schlatt?” Quackity looked terrified as the drunken man stared at him, a broken glass bottle in hand and its shards spread on the floor. The stench of alcohol and smoke was pungent inside the office; Quackity wanted to puke.

“Ah, Mi amor, come here, come here,” His husband beckoned, drunken yet sweet. 

But Quackity stood frozen in his spot.

Schlatt grimaced and threw the bottle, nearly hitting Quackity in the face, “Dumb bitch, I said come here!” He yelled. Quackity shuddered and quickly moved his feet stiffly as he approached the drunk man.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He’d mutter as tears glistened from his eyes, threatening to run down his unhealthy pale cheeks. His head hung low, his eyes too scared to meet the other. 

It only annoyed Schlatt and slapped Quackity, “Shut the fuck up.” Quackity did, a hand over his cheek, red and wet from his uncontrollable tears. The man rolled his eyes and stood up from his seat, legs wobbling as he walked. “Clean this room for me, would ya?” 

Quackity knew this wasn’t a question, and so he stuttered out, “Ye, yes, Schlatt.”

Schlatt left without a word. 

For months, Schlatt had been like this, always going on and off with him, arguing with him, and going drinking right after. The first time Schlatt threw a bottle at him — it landed by his **head,** his husband muttered apologies and sweet nothings to his ear the next day. What was Quackity supposed to do? The man was drunk that time, after all, and so he forgave Schlatt. Then it had been like that ever since, Schlatt would hurt him and make him feel useless, ask for forgiveness the next day, then repeat. It was exhausting, so tiresome, and terrifying. 

Quackity hasn’t had a good sleep nor meal since he had to deal with Manburg while Schlatt was out drinking alcohol, and George wasn’t even there to help him out. Instead, he was building his stupid little house.

He was so fucking tired of it. 

And yet, he stayed.

He needed Schlatt, and Schlatt needed him. Schlatt wouldn’t be here because of him. He wouldn’t be. There’s no way he would. And Schlatt wasn’t that bad, right? The man would always embrace him with warmth; he always does and gives whatever Quackity wants. Yeah, Schlatt wasn’t that **bad**. That’s why he stayed. Schlatt isn’t perfect; nobody is. And Quackity promised to himself that he’d only see the best for his husband.

* * *

It happened again. 

And again.

And **again**.

Quackity was slowly losing himself, slowly getting addicted to the pain, wanting more of it. This whole madness was growing so comforting to him, so warm and addicting. The yelling was getting louder, but it’ll be fine. He’ll be faithful. He will be, right?

* * *

“Pull yourself together, Big Q!” Tommy screeched. 

Quackity was pulled back in, earning a harsh slap from reality. He was sweating, shivering, and so out of breath. He escaped. He wasn’t inside the white house. Schlatt wasn’t looking for him, for the moment at least. 

He looked at the Brit, almost on the verge of crying. 

It hurt so much. Quackity hated it. 

Why did he stay again? 

“Join us, Big Q. Join Pogtopia. You’ll be safe there.”

Will he? Quackity was wary about this, but the white house wasn’t any better. After long contemplation, Quackity took a sharp breath and answered, “Alright, Tommy. Lead the way.”

Quackity was confused when they arrived at the hidden ravine. Everyone was suspicious of him, yet they welcomed him anyways. They gave him food and spare clothes, and a bed specially made for him as well. It was warm. Not the type of warmth he was used to.

Techno was there too, yet he surprisingly treated him well. It was unnerving at first. They had a bad history, after all. Yet Quackity had slowly gotten used to it, slowly putting his walls down. Techno was nice and sweet but still kept Quackity at arm’s length. It surprised Quackity for the man to be like this but didn’t complain. It was nice to have a person treat him like a human again. Despite that, a part of him wanted something more.

But there he was, being betrayed by Techno, himself. 

Schlatt died already, and they had won the rebellion, but Wilbur pressed the button as Techno summoned withers. His homeland was gone, destroyed, and replaced by a big hole. Bitterness is what Quackity felt towards Techno and looked at the said man as if he was the tyrant here and not them, not him. 

‘I’m going to kill you, Technoblade,’ He swore to himself as he glared at the wanted poster of Technoblade, the man who showed him what real warmth is. A part of him felt something ache, but he ignored the feeling. It’s no big deal. 

As Tubbo became president, it felt like Quackity was more in charge. They rebuilt his homeland and added new laws for everyone’s safety. Everything felt safe, and Quackity relished that moment. 

It felt amazing. 

The moment where he felt hungry for power slowly drained him, yet it also somewhat excites him. Is this how Schlatt felt when he was in charge? Quackity thought and shook his head dismissively. No, he isn’t like that; they’re different. He wasn’t a tyrant like him, nor he will ever be. 

He’s a good person. 

Yeah, good person. 

Quackity is a good person.

Is he?

* * *

His home was gone again. The hole was ten times bigger than the last. That’s when Quackity knew that he should just give up. Everything felt so worthless now. He was already in his last life as well. He felt such an idiot to think that he'd win against Technoblade. That was the Blood God. He should’ve known better. 

But now, where should he go? His home was now gone; everyone had gone in their separate ways. He could go to Karl and Sapnap, but George also happened to be there. He still felt a tad bitter towards the Brit. Quackity didn't know where he should reside and just headed to the North and planned to build a small cabin once he was sure he was far enough from any territories. 

The place slowly became familiar as his skeleton horse galloped in the tundra. There was snow but no blizzard. Quackity shivered at the biting cold despite having a sweater. It wasn’t thick enough to keep him warm. He missed being warm. He rubbed his hands together as he puffed a breath, visible to the frosty air. He had only been in this direction once, it was when he planned to kill Technoblade, and he was here again. 

He saw the small house as he got near, and the snowing just happened to pick up. Of all times, why now? Quackity complained and cursed underneath his breath. He contemplated if he should stay there or just freeze to death here. Looking back, he had already traveled miles in the tundra, and it’d be too late to go back now. Curse him and his terrible luck.

So he approached the cozy-looking home. 

Quackity tied the reins to the wooden pole as he arrived and hummed a small tune as he did so. Feeling a hand over his shoulder, Quackity froze (pun unintended). “What are you doing here?” He heard the man snarled. 

It felt familiar. So familiar. 

His body quivered as he bit his bottom lip to suppress a scream. Even if he did, it would be worthless. 

Is Schlatt here? He thought. 

As grip on his shoulder tightened, Quackity yelped in pain. “Answer me,” The man demanded. Quackity scrambled his hands over his head as he kept shivering from the cold and fear, his eyes closed as he cried uncontrollably, muttering apologies. 

“I’m sorry, Schlatt. I didn’t mean to. I won’t do it again. I’ll be a good boy,” Quackity cried. He didn’t realize the grip on his shoulder softened nor heard the sigh from his behind. They made him turn around, and the grip turned firm yet gentle. “Ple, please, don’t hurt me,” He begged.

“Quackity, look at me,” The voice said… softly?

Yet he kept his eyes closed as tears came running down to his pale and hollow cheeks.

“I’m not Schlatt, Quackity. Schlatt’s dead. So look at me.”

Schlatt’s dead? Then who’s…

Quackity gulped and nodded once, his eyelids carefully fluttering back open. He didn’t see horns and black eyes. Instead, he saw Piglin ears with a golden crown adorned on their head and beautiful reds. He didn’t know how long he had held his breath at that moment. “Techno?” The man nodded.

It was Technoblade, not Schlatt. 

A breath of relief.

Quackity didn’t know why but he felt so calm in the Blood God’s presence. His tense shoulders relaxed, and he could feel himself getting tired, both physically and mentally. Techno was warm, and their bodies were so close, he couldn’t help but lean over. His face snuggled up on the man’s chest. Quackity didn’t notice the man tensed nor how his body warmed up even more. He was too tired to notice anything and slept right then and there.

* * *

“Where am I?” Quackity yawned as he groggily sat up from the… bed? He glanced around, the room entirely unfamiliar for him, yet the scent did. He couldn’t put a finger to it, though. A thick warm blanket was draped over his body, so comfortable and soft. It made him want to sleep again as he flopped back down.

The person must be nice to let a stranger like him sleep in their bed.

“You’re awake?” A voice piped up — monotone and deep. 

There was only one person who Quackity knew has that type of voice.

“Techno?!” He shrieked as he sprang up from the bed and groaned in pain as he hit his head on the ceiling roof and crouched back down. The said man was on the ladder, but only the top half of his head was there, red eyes just staring blankly at him.

“You good?” He asked casually. Quackity could still hear the amusement under that tone.

“You think?” Quackity grumbled, glaring at Techno as he massaged the small bump forming on his head. “Why did you let me stay anyways?”

Techno was quiet, but Quackity waited. The man coughed and glanced away. If Quackity knew better, he would’ve noticed that Techno was nervous, “Look, it’s, uh, it’s hard to explain.”

Quackity blinked. “Wha—”

“Don’t question a man’s intentions, Quackity.” With that, Techno climbed back down, leaving a confused Quackity.

“Uhm, okay?”

It had already been a month and a half, the blizzard was long gone, and Quackity was still at Technoblade’s home. Not that he hated it, he had no place to stay nor had any resources left. Techno didn’t seem to mind his presence either. And Quackity being Quackity, he quickly got comfortable in Techno’s home. It was so warm and cozy. He’d sometimes wake up early and watch the sunrise on the porch with a cup of joe in hand, and sometimes Techno would accompany him.

Of course, Phil was there too. He had his room in the basement while Quackity was sleeping on the couch; it was comfortable enough. Ranboo would often visit and give them gifts and go on adventures with Techno and Phil, while Quackity would laze around the house or clean something if he would ever feel productive. The trio would sometimes be gone for a few days and come back with a totem or two. Quackity laughed at the part where Techno took the enchanted apple while Ranboo was dealing with pesky mobs.

For once in a long time in his life, he let his wings be free. His wings were always hidden from his suit, if not then his sweater since he was too insecure about it. It used to be so small and puffy, and he hated that, even more, when people would compare him to a duck. Now, it grew bigger but not like Phil’s, and his feathers grew a little refined, though it looked horrible at first from being cooped up in a tight space for a long time, not to mention from his first death also. Thankfully, Techno was there to help him tend them. 

It was the only intimate thing they have ever done. Techno’s touch was gentle and soothing, and Quackity would lean to it and relax. He’d sometimes hear Techno mumble that would make him feel flustered and all giddy inside. It was an idiotic feeling, really, but he liked it.

_(He’d sometimes wonder if he could still fly with his wings; he never had the chance to.)_

* * *

“Hey, Techno,” Quackity mumbled, leaning against the other’s shoulder, and his elbows rested on the wooden fence and held a mug, half-filled with warm caffeine. The sun was rising again. 

Techno grunted as a response before taking a sip of his cup of joe.

“Why did you let me stay?” It was a question that lingered in his mind for days. The only time he and Techno got along was the time in Pogtopia; he couldn’t recall any other memories or moments before and after that.

Techno had the power and ability to kill him easily on the day he found Quackity — freezing and blue, and yet, Techno let him stay, even after all those spiteful remarks and battle scars. He let him live and gave him a place to say and food to eat. 

“You know how the saying goes. ‘Know your enemy.’” Techno let out a hearty chuckle as he glanced at the pouting Quackity. 

“I’m serious.”

“And if I say I am too?”

Quackity flinched and inched away, looking at Techno in pure shock, confusion, and a hint of fear. Techno frowned and cupped Quackity’s cheek, his thumb rubbing in soothing circles, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Quackity sighed in relief and leaned close to the warmth of his hand, cupping it with his own, “It’s okay. I got a bit jumpy. We can talk about this later if you’d like.” And as if on cue, Phil had already woken up and called Techno from the kitchen for some help. Techno grunted as Quackity chuckled. “Go, you don’t want to make Phil waiting,” He’d say, cocking his head to the side. 

“Alright,” Techno responded, giving Quackity a brief yet warm hug before retreating inside. Quackity hummed and watched the man leave, then turned away, going back to staring at the white scenery before him.

Maybe some other time, Techno will tell him. _Some day soon, _he hoped.__


End file.
